The Man Behind the Curtain
by mergrly3286
Summary: When a screenwriter is brutally massacred by dismayed fans, Bones and Booth not only have to solve the murder, but also face their own issues as a beloved non-couple.
1. Like in Psycho

**A/N: This is my first Bones story that's really based on a case idea. Hopefully it will be done in 5 or 6 chapters. Please, please read and then review so I know what you think. Your reviews always make me smile, and they usually put me in the mood to write more often. Seriously, not even warm chocolate chip cookies make me quite as happy as the cute little emails FanFiction sends me when I get a review. You can be the cause of all this happiness, for the low low price of 5 minutes of your time! [Disclaimer: All I own is a little notebook full of my ideas. Fox owns Bones, Booth, and the hearts of millions of fans.] **

The Man Behind the Curtain

Chapter 1

Maria rapped on the door of the apartment politely. She heard no answer from the other side. She knocked again, but still no answer came. For the third time this month, she reached up to the top of the doorframe for the key and let herself in. The owner had been working so many extra hours that he was seldom home anymore when she came to do the cleaning.

As soon as she entered the living room the stench hit her. Maria rolled her eyes. He must have left the milk out again. She left her cleaning supplies on the table in the hall and wandered to the kitchen to seek the source of the odor. Aside from the pile of dishes in the sink, everything seemed in order.

Maria continued her search in the bedroom. The smell seemed stronger here than in the other rooms. She knelt beside the mattress. She pulled up the untidy bed covers, peering into the darkness below, but she could only see a few dust bunnies. She stood up, stretching her sore back, and sniffed attentively. She followed the smell to the bathroom door.

She pushed the door open hesitantly. The dreadful stink hit Maria again, and she gagged slightly. She crossed to the shower. As she pulled back the curtain, the sight that met her eyes was even more horrific than the smell. She let out a piercing scream.

* * *

"What have you got for me?" Cam asked, pulling on her gloves as she walked into the room.

"Dead guy, found in the shower by the maid this morning," Booth updated her, pointing to the tub. "Hopefully you can tell us more than Bones could."

"I told you, Booth, there's too much flesh for me," Brennan protested.

"Male. I'd guess early thirties," Cam began.

"I knew that," Brennan interrupted. "Also, there's no clothing visible on the remains."

"So, what?" Booth asked. "There are never any clothes left by the time you get to them."

"But with this limited decomposition –" Brennan began to explain.

"It probably means he wasn't wearing any clothing when he was killed," Cam finished.

"Precisely," Brennan agreed.

"And judging by the blood splatters all over the wall –" Cam gestured at the crimson streaks that contrasted with the stark white tiles. "I'm going to say that he was killed in the shower."

"Like in Psycho?" Booth asked, glancing behind his shoulder nervously.

"There's no evidence to suggest that the killer was insane, Booth." Brennan looked confusedly between him and Cam.

"It's a movie, Bones," Booth clarified.

"A fairly well-known horror movie from 1960, directed by Alfred Hitchcock. There's a classic scene where a woman is killed in the shower," Cam explained.

"You know they used chocolate syrup for the blood?" Booth shuddered. "I couldn't eat ice cream for a month."

"Back to the case at hand," Brennan said loudly.

"I can't learn much more here. Let's take him back to the lab," Cam directed.

* * *

"What's going on?" Angela asked as she swiped her security card, and then climbed the stairs to the forensic platform. Brennan, Cam, and Fisher were clustered around the corpse on the table.

"Another day, another victim in another gruesome murder," Fisher sighed.

"I don't know if I have seen enough evidence to characterize the murder as _gruesome_ yet Mr. Fisher," Brennan commented, without ceasing her examination of the victim's sternum.

"Well, it looks to me like the man was stabbed in the heart and chest area four times. That qualifies as gruesome in my book," Cam declared.

"Damage to the sternum and ribs support that assessment of the cause of death," Brennan agreed.

"Angela, could you get working on the ID?" Cam requested, handing her a folder of x-ray films. "It's most likely the owner of the apartment, but I'd like to verify that."

"Sure, it should be pretty simple to match dental records," Angela confirmed, heading for her office.

"Good morning, everyone," Hodgins called, bounding up to the platform. "Angela." His eyes followed her as she descended the steps. She gave him a vaguely disapproving glance.

"No morning is ever good from my point of view," Fisher called back woefully.

"Your morning is way better than this guy's." Cam indicated the body on the table.

"Fisher, you are an amusing man, my friend," Hodgins laughed.

"What are you so chipper about today?" Cam inquired, looking curiously at Hodgins.

"I don't know. It's just a wonderful day to work with bugs and slime," Hodgins smiled.

"If you are so anxious to get to work, Dr. Hodgins, you could begin by finding a precise time of death," Brennan instructed.

"Booth talked with the maid who found the body; she said it couldn't have been there more than a week," Cam added.

"Wow, that is an interesting strain of mildew," Hodgins exclaimed, as he examined the underside of the victim's arm. "I'm sure that will tell us something." He began collecting the sample.

"At least you have something to work with," Fisher said, moping.

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again: you can clean the bones when I'm finished with the flesh," Cam declared.

"Come on, Squint Squad," Booth said agitatedly, as he entered the lab. "I need something to go on here."

"Angela is working on the ID right now, Booth," Brennan replied. "Hodgins is attempting to pinpoint the time of death."

"Well, Bones, you and I have to head over to Sweets' office soon," Booth continued.

"Go ahead," Cam instructed. "We'll have plenty of information when you get back. And this way, Dr. Brennan, you'll have something to do besides hover over me while I examine the flesh."

"Great, grab your coat, Bones," Booth said cheerfully, although Bones scowled at Cam mutinously.

"Wait just a minute before you go," Angela called, rushing towards the door. "I've got the ID."

"Is the victim the owner of the apartment?" Brennan asked, flipping open the file Angela handed her.

"Yep. His name is Mark Larson," she added.

"Where do I know that name from?" Cam asked, pulling her hands out of the victim's intestines.

"He's a TV screenwriter," Booth noted, peering at the folder over Brennan's shoulder.

"Oh yeah," Hodgins concurred, looking up from his jar of mildew. "For one of those detective shows."

"That's it!" Cam said exultantly. "I think the show's called _Heart and Mind _or something. Have you ever seen it?"

"I rarely watch television; I find it a waste of time," Brennan replied.

"I watch it sometimes," Angela answered. "When I need a good cry. It's got some intense emotional drama."

"My life does not need any more drama," Fisher added.

"Speaking of drama," Cam began, "don't you and Dr. Brennan have an appointment to get to, Booth?"

"Right, Bones, let's get going," Booth said. "We'll talk to Sweets, then we can bring in some suspects."


	2. Mightier than the Sword

**A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to get around to this chapter! I was out of town, then I was sick, etc. But it's here now, so let there be great rejoicing. I'm pretty happy with how this chapter turned out, too. Thanks for everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted the first chapter. Keep up the nice encouragement! I'm especially a fan of reviews, so really, leave as many as you want. **

* * *

The Man Behind the Curtain

Chapter 2: Mightier than the Sword

"Hiya Sweets!" Booth called from the door to the office. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Sweets said, hurriedly saving the document on his computer and closing the window. "You guys are early." He cleared his throat and moved to sit in his customary seat across from the couch.

"Almost no traffic this morning," Brennan replied as Booth helped her out of her coat. "And Booth rushed me out of the lab." She punctuated her remark with a glare in his direction.

"Well you didn't have any bones to work on yet," Booth explained. "Let Cam do her flesh thing first."

"I'm going to skip right over the Freudian implications of that last sentence, Booth," Sweets commented, smiling.

"Come on, Sweets," Booth growled. "I know you look twelve, but really?"

"Sorry," he answered, shuffling his papers. "So Dr. Brennan, how do you feel about Dr. Saroyan's increased role in this case?"

"I haven't been rendered completely useless yet," Brennan protested. "I can work on the bones as soon as she finishes with the flesh and allows Fisher to clean the skeleton."

"That's the spirit, Bones!" Booth encouraged, patting her knee and giving her a jaunty smile.

"Then why do you look so worried, Dr. Brennan?" Sweets asked, noting her furrowed forehead and downturned expression.

"It's cases like these where I wonder if perhaps Cam would make a better partner for Booth," she answered, not meeting her partner's eyes.

"Why would you think that?" Sweets inquired, scribbling on his notepad.

"Yeah, Bones, what are you talking about?" Booth probed. "Usually the bodies have way less flesh. I don't know what I would do without you."

"It's not just that," Brennan continued. "She understands various cultural allusions much more readily than I do."

"That is true," Booth laughed. "She got my Psycho reference this morning. But that doesn't mean she's a better partner. You and me, Bones, we're the best." His reassuring smile comforted and warmed her as much as his words. She smiled hesitantly back at him, and the two momentarily forgot about the psychologist across the table from them.

Sweets cleared his throat again. "Back up, why did you reference Psycho this morning?"

"Our victim was killed in the shower," Booth explained, finally breaking eye contact with his partner.

"I see," Sweets noted, writing on his paper. "So he was naked?"

"Sheesh Sweets, you really are twelve aren't you?" Booth complained.

"That could have some Psychological implications," Sweets said, ignoring him.

"What do you mean?" Brennan asked, her eyes inquisitive.

"Well, to me it says that the killer was probably someone he was very familiar with," Sweets explained.

"We already got that from the whole no-forced-entry thing," Booth added.

"Yes, but I would guess that the killer was someone with whom the killer was recently sexually involved. Most casual friends don't just go bursting in on each other in the bathroom," Sweets continued.

"Yeah, most people," Booth muttered, glancing at Bones. She was smiling slightly, and he wondered if she was thinking about the same event he was. This therapy session was starting to get a little uncomfortable from Booth's seat.

"I recommend looking into the victim's past lovers," Sweets concluded.

"Great then, let's go do that," Booth said abruptly, standing up. "Come on, Bones!"

* * *

"Dude," Hodgins said slowly, not looking up from his microscope, "I'm gonna need a little breathing space."

"Sorry," Fisher replied grimly, taking a single step back. "But until Dr. Saroyan finishes with the flesh all I can do is observe your fascination with all things small and mildly disgusting."

"Who's doing something mildly disgusting?" Angela asked, wandering into the room. Hodgins finally peeled his eyes away from his work.

"I'm determining the time of death by analyzing the growth of this mildew," he replied, gesturing at the slide.

"That is disgusting, I guess. Not the good kind, though," Angela said, disappointed. "Too bad. I was looking forward to something fun."

"Saturday night," Hodgins called out suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Angela spluttered.

"The victim. He was killed last Saturday. Between 10 PM and 2 AM." Hodgins looked at her curiously. "What did you think I meant?"

"Oh, nothing," Angela said, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. Jack, however, detected a faint pink in her cheeks.

"Well now none of us has anything to do," Fisher said morosely, sitting down in a chair. He propped up his feet on an adjacent table.

"Fisher, Hodgins," Cam snapped, striding past the open door. "I need you both."

"Did you finish with the flesh yet?" Fisher asked with a mild glimmer of hope.

"Nope. But I found some weird marks around the wounds. I want you guys to take a sample. Hodgins, you can work on figuring out what it is. It may give us a murder weapon."

* * *

The girl was probably in her late twenties. She looked bored, as she sat at the table filing her nails. Her hair was brown, but highlighted carefully, and waved down to her shoulders.

Booth and Brennan stood behind the window, observing their suspect.

"Sarah Holbrook," Booth explained. "The doorman at our victim's apartment identified her as the girlfriend. He also said that she came by Saturday night, looking angry."

"Hodgins says that the victim was killed late Saturday night," Brennan replied, reading from her phone.

"Great, then let's talk to her," Booth said, walking Bones to the adjacent room. The pair took their seats across the table from the girl.

"Good morning, Sarah," Booth greeted her courteously.

"Not from where I'm sitting," she grumbled in reply. "Why am I here? I have to work."

"We'd like to talk to you about Mark Larson," Booth answered. "Can you tell me about your relationship?"

"Yeah, sure. I was his girlfriend. But I'm so over that now," Sarah huffed, slouching in her chair. "And whatever he did, I wasn't involved."

"He's dead," Brennan said bluntly.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "What happened?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Booth answered. "Where were you last Saturday night?"

"Between the hours of 10 PM and 2 AM?" Brennan clarified.

"I went to visit Mark, but that's all, I swear!" Sarah answered quickly. "I just wanted my stuff back."

"Why did you two break up?" Booth asked.

"Do you know what it's like to be with a writer?" she asked in return. Booth glanced briefly at Bones, but quickly returned his attention to the girl in front of him. "He never had time for me, he was so busy with that stupid show. I just got tired of trying to deal with it."

"I bet that made you pretty mad," Booth prodded.

"Not enough to kill him," Sarah replied. "I just wanted my Beatles CDs back."

"May I see your nail file?" Brennan requested suddenly, pulling on latex gloves.

"Uh, sure," Sarah answered, passing it across the table.

"No blood, but it could have been wiped clean," Brennan said, examining the small instrument.

"Can I go now?" Sarah asked impatiently. "I really do have to get to work."

"Yeah, I think we're pretty much done here," Booth agreed, standing up from his chair. "Right, Bones?"

"Yes, although I'd like to keep this nail file in evidence," Bones answered, placing it in a bag.

* * *

"Hodgins!" Brennan called, walking into his workspace. "I need you to check and see if the particulates on this weapon match the wounds on the victim." She brandished an evidence bag under his nose.

"It's not going to match, Bones. No point trying," Booth called, following behind her. "It's not the girlfriend."

"It's a nail file…" Hodgins noted curiously, examining the contents of the bag.

"Cam said you're examining particulates from the wounds," Brennan stated, looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah, the mass spec is almost done," he replied.

"I really don't think the girlfriend did it, Bones," Booth cut in.

"Nope," Hodgins replied, examining the data that had just appeared on his computer screen. "Or at least, not with a nail file. Come on." He stood up and walked towards the door.

"What did you find, Hodgins?" Booth asked, following closely behind him, with Bones at his side.

Hodgins strode up to the forensic platform where Cam was working over the body. He sat down in front of the monitor and quickly pulled up the data that had been on his screen a minute ago.

"What have you got for me?" Cam asked, looking up from the brain matter on the table.

"A complex mixture of pH modifiers, humectants, thickeners, biocides, iron sulfate, gallic acid, and most importantly, carbon black," Hodgins replied, swiveling around in his chair. Booth, Brennan, and Cam all gave him blank stares.

"And…?" Cam prompted.

"The guy was stabbed with a pen," Hodgins explained.

"Who would kill someone with a pen?" Booth wondered aloud.

"A writer," Brennan noted.


	3. A New Development

**A/N: I'm back again. Did you miss me? Here's another chapter for your enjoyment. Please review and let me know what you think. No joke. I love reviews. Reviews make me very happy. [Disclaimer: Do I own Bones? Ha. I wish.] **

The Man Behind the Curtain Chapter 3: A New Development

"Agent Booth?" Sweets called, knocking on the doorframe of the office where the partners sat, sipping coffee and discussing the case.

"What's up, Sweets?" Booth replied, looking up from the papers strewn across his desk. "Come on in."

"I did some research into your victim, Mark Larson," Sweets explained, sitting in a vacant chair and opening his laptop.

"You told him about the case?" Brennan protested, interrupting the Psychologist to glare at Booth questioningly.

"The guy was stabbed with a pen, Bones. I figured that might have some kind of symbolic, psycho-whatever meaning," Booth explained.

"I found a potential suspect who might interest you," Sweets continued, setting his laptop on the desk where both partners could see it. "This is an interview with the victim, Larson, and his co-writer for _Heart and Mind_, Stephen Mason." Sweets pressed play and the video began.

"So where do you think TV's favorite non-couple is going to go in this coming season?" the interviewer asked. She was an attractive young talk show host.

"Well, I'm not in any trying to rush Penny and Manning into anything," Larson replied, laughing a little.

"But I think it's safe to say that there will be some action there soon," Mason added. Larson gave him a slightly surprised look.

"No promises, though. Our fans will just have to keep watching," Larson tacked on.

Sweets paused the video, his gaze flicking eagerly between Booth and Brennan's faces.

"Are you suggesting that Mason killed his coworker over a matter of creative differences?" Bones asked dubiously.

"Well, yeah, maybe," Sweets answered. "But he also stands to inherit Larson's job as head writer now that he's gone."

"That's a pretty good motive," Booth agreed.

"Wait, it gets better," Sweets added. "Watch this." He moved the video forward a few minutes, then pressed play again.

"Penny and Manning both have interesting habits relating to their jobs. Manning is always playing with that rubber band ball, and Penny insists on listening to classical music when she's concentrating. Do either of you have tendencies like that? Where did that inspiration come from?" The interviewer glanced curiously from one writer to the other.

"I've actually developed a bit of an odd habit," Mason said. "When I'm writing my first draft of any new show, I always write it out longhand. It helps me focus and slow down. I'm just a paper and pen kind of guy, I guess." Sweets paused the video, freezing the frame on Mason's smiling face.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Booth asked, glancing at his partner. "Because I'm thinking we should talk to this guy."

"I'm thinking we should obtain a warrant for his pen," Brennan replied.

* * *

"Alright, Fisher," Cam called from behind the autopsy table. "You can stop moping around now."

"You're finished with the flesh?" Fisher set down his graphic novel, looking expectantly up at her.

"Yes. Go to work," Cam instructed, removing her gloves and tossing them in the waste container.

"Awesome!" Fisher exclaimed, eagerly preparing to remove the flesh from the bones.

"That may be the happiest I've ever seen Fisher," Hodgins commented as he walked past Cam holding a tray full of Petri dishes.

"What have you got there, Hodgins?" Cam asked, glancing curiously at the contents of the tray.

"Oh, I've just been tracking the growth rate of this mildew. I'm working on some of my own research into the use of molds and fungi to estimate time of death."

"That's… great. I didn't know you were working on your own projects like that," Cam replied, a little surprised.

"Yeah, well, the field of forensic biology with respect to mold is relatively unexplored, so it's not too hard to get published. Besides, I've got a lot of time on my hands lately." He shot a quick glance at Angela, who sat sketching in her office.

"Oh, well best of luck to you," Cam replied politely, striding towards her own office. "Everyone is so enthusiastic about their job this week," she muttered to herself.

* * *

"How well did you know Mark Larson?" Booth asked, taking his seat at the metal table in the interrogation room.

"He was my partner. And kind of my boss, too," Mason replied. "I hadn't seen him in a while, though. I've been working from home a lot lately." He frowned slightly.

"Did you guys ever have any disagreements about the show? You know, creative differences?" Booth questioned.

"Yeah, that was why I was working from home. The guy was a little too intense if you ask me," Mason answered.

"What do you mean?"

"It was all about the money for him. All about keeping the viewers and keeping the show going as long as possible. He kept coming up with new issues to stop Penny and Manning from being together. It was getting a little out of character," Mason looked a little disgusted.

Sweets and Brennan watched and listened from the other side of the glass. Brennan suddenly reached out and turned down the volume on the speakers. Sweets turned to her curiously.

"I have a question, Sweets," Bones began.

"What is it, Dr. Brennan?" Sweets replied courteously.

"You were apparently incorrect in your hypothesis that the victim and killer were sexually involved. Why do you believe that this Psychological guess," she gestured at the suspect across from Booth, "is any better than the last one?"

"Well, Dr. Brennan, I examined more of the facts of the case before suggesting this suspect. I took more evidence into account," he answered. "Isn't that what you would do?"

"No. I wouldn't jump to conclusions," she responded. At the same time, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She read the text message quickly.

"What is it?" Sweets asked, noticing the anxious lines forming on Dr. Brennan's forehead.

"They need me back at the lab. Tell Booth where I went," she instructed, hurrying out the door.

"Sure, Dr. Brennan, whatever you need," Sweets mumbled as the heavy door swung shut behind her. "I am your messenger boy, after all." He rolled his eyes, turning the volume on the interrogation room speakers back up.

"Ok, yeah I get his job now, and yeah we had some disagreements, but I didn't kill Mark," Mason was insisting.

"Who do you think killed him?" Booth asked, leaning back in his chair, fiddling with his poker chip.

"I don't know, man, that guy got plenty of hate mail, though. Right in there with the fan mail."

"Can we see this hate mail?" Booth asked, pocketing the poker chip and making direct eye contact with Mason.

* * *

"What's the problem?" Brennan asked as she strode purposefully through the sliding glass doors.

"It's not a problem, exactly," Cam protested. She was leaning over the freshly cleaned skeleton, staring through the microscope. "Let's just call it a new development."

"It is kind of a dilemma, though," Fisher added.

"I repeat, what's the problem?" Brennan questioned, impatiently snapping latex gloves over her hands.

"The directionality of this wound," Fisher began, pointing at a small indentation in a rib, "indicates that the killer was right-handed."

"That is correct," Brennan agreed, lifting up the rib to examine the wound.

"But this wound," Fisher continued, indicating a similar indentation on a different rib, "suggests that the killer was left-handed."

"Perhaps the killer was ambidextrous," Bones offered.

"And switched hands partway through killing the guy?" Cam raised her eyebrows. "I doubt it."

"The most logical conclusion, then, is that there were multiple killers," Brennan contributed. "Four of them."

"Four?" Cam wondered, her eyes passing across the skeleton again.

"Each wound seems to indicate a different amount and directionality of force. Four wounds, four murderers," Brennan explained.

"Wow," Cam breathed. "Four murderers."


End file.
